[OPEN] only god can see what i've become.

[killtime]

⬤ Andy @ the CR Meme ⬤
⬤ Permissions Post ⬤

Who ⬤ Andromache of Scythia (now of Enma) & YOU!
What ⬤ The bastard woman drinks and brawls her way through May substories
When ⬤ Throughout the month of May
Where ⬤ A bar, a backlot, and a bloody arena
Content Warnings ⬤ Profanity, violence, substance use, sex, etc. To be updated as needed!



A | MOON MEDICINE / SUBSTORY #1

[ This might be the most alive she's felt since arriving in hell. Whatever the fuck was in that medicinal mochi — it's like being high on cocaine and bloodlust at the same time. It feeds into that part of her that has always loved a fight. That up-close and personal shit where you can practically smell your opponent's breath. That's what she was raised on, seven thousand years ago on the Eurasian steppe — heir of the warrior-queen, bare and bloody on the battlefield, her mother's axe in her right hand.

No axe now. No battlefield either. Just the dirty alley out behind some dive bar. But that look in her eye is the same now as it was back then, wild and bright as she slams her fist into the unrecognizable pulp that was formerly the face of the yokai who had gotten fresh with her inside. Her knuckles are split open, but she doesn't seem to notice. Tunnel vision, everything else utterly irrelevant while her opponent is still standing — and he is, just barely. Just enough to take another clumsy swing at her, a move so obvious and slow that, in her violent fervor, she barks out a mean laugh, teeth bared. Bracing herself, she lets gravity do most of the work as she catches her victim by the clothes and flings him out of the alley towards street —

Right into anyone unfortunate enough to be passing by. ]

B | VEND ME A DREAM / SUBSTORY #2

[ Normally, on a day like this, Andy would have found some way to drink herself into oblivion by now. But she's spent most of her time in hell hungover, and somewhere between the constant headaches and violent nausea, she figured her newly mortal body was probably begging her for a break from the bottle. But being both idle and sober lends itself too readily towards her tendency to wallow uselessly in her own misery, so when the shirime approaches her with its winking butthole and a request for item A5, well...

Fuck it. It's not as if she has anything better to do.

That's how she winds up in that backlot, leaning up against a porno vending machine with a dwindling cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth as she flips through Juicy Peaches. The look on her face is one of stoic apathy, but either she's bored or the asses within are just that compelling, because she's still turning pages. This page in particular has her head turning slightly one way, then the other as she considers it. Out loud, to nobody in particular: ]

...That's a fucking fish.

[ Given the context, she might mean that literally. Only one way to find out. ]

C | BRUISED & BLOODY / SHUTEN TERRITORY ARENA

[ She'd been beating up people for free in bars this whole time, so it seemed only practical to at least get paid for that shit. The booze and cigarettes don't pay for themselves — and gods forbid that Andy hold a regular nine-to-five. She'd rather have her bones broken. Besides, she makes for a good underdog bet. Compared to some of the monstrous yokai that have stood opposite her in the ring, Andy looks decidedly ordinary. A woman who is neither particularly tall or strong. Nothing to betray the centuries she's spent mastering different ways of using her body to cause others pain. Except maybe that certain look in her eye. Something sharp. Something a little mean.

On one of the nights that she fights, she might find herself facing off against another Lost Soul in her next match. Or maybe afterward, with her left arm hanging loosely from its socket, she might be looking for someone to lend her hand — hopefully someone who isn't too squeamish to shove a shoulder back in. Otherwise, after the fighting is done, she makes a habit of smoking a cigarette right outside the arena, usually more interested in indulging that bad habit than patching herself up. ]

Comments

[killtime]

[ Andy doesn't even have time to swear. Her stomach drops like a fucking stone, all that dark hair whipping around her as she plummets towards the pavement. Her body responds the way that it should — heart throbbing, lungs squeezing tight — but there's that pulse of adrenaline too, a few brilliant seconds of pure fucking thrill. The utter lack of control. The freedom of a freefall. And she's halfway crazy enough to think it that feeling could just be worth being splattered on the ground.

Either way, all she can do is let it happen. ]

[heretic_blade]

[ He waits as long as he's able to before diving after her. Maybe this time he won't reach her and he'll have to cover for why a member of the Department fell out of the sky and painted the street below.

He snags her just in time inches from the ground, flapping his wings hard to get back in the air properly. ]

Still alive?

[killtime]

[ The ground rushes up so fast she's half-convinced she really is going to fucking die. For real. For the first time. And she's not nearly as afraid of that as she probably should be.

But the impact never comes. It's close — so damn close that she swears she can feel the tail of her long hair kiss the pavement before Izo sweeps her back up, mere seconds from becoming a smear of blood and gore.

It's ballsy, asking her a question like that. Still alive? Fuck. Must be, with her blood pounding so loudly in her ears. She can't help a breathless laugh. ]

Bastard. [ She accuses admiringly. ] Fuck me — you don't think you could have cut it any fucking closer?

[heretic_blade]

Coulda. Think ya might'a scraped th' pavement if I did.

[ Even as drunk as he is, he's annoyingly confident. ]

Now I'm gettin' fuckin' tired carrying yer ass 'round. Guess after almost killin' ya, th' least I can do is take ya home.

[killtime]

That's twice, by the fucking way.

[ Twice he's almost killed her, even if it was a couple centuries apart. But she doesn't resent that. Not judging by the look on her face. Who the fuck even knows if she's still drunk or if the high is from something else entirely. ]

Does it still count as chivalry if you almost kill a girl before offering to take her home?

[heretic_blade]

Wanna make it three?

[ He laughs. They're both having a good time and that's probably not good for either of them. ]

Probably not. Don't care much for shit like that. At least I ain't makin' ya walk yer ass home.

[killtime]

[ Three. Isn't there a saying about third times? Dryly, with a pointed little look: ]

You wouldn't tease about something like that, would you? [ Probably says something about them, that violence and murder are the themes of their running jokes. Maybe she shouldn't be so amused by the idea of narrowly escaping death. ] You'll give a bitch a complex. Going to start thinking you like blue-balling me.

[ As if it hadn't been the best thrill she's had in a long while. ]

[heretic_blade]

'Til someone pays me, I ain't gonna kill ya. Maybe jus' think yer gonna die.

[ He grins. ]

What, th' thrill'a almost dyin' turn ya on or somethin'?

[killtime]

So what if it does? [ Wryly: ] Maybe having you drop me is my idea of foreplay.

[ There's not much space between them like this, with him carrying her and her arms around his neck — and the proximity somehow seems to put a certain emphasis on her words that they might not have otherwise. ]

You still want to take me home?

[heretic_blade]

[ He feels that strange, almost intimate weight her words have and it's enough to bring color to his cheeks. ]

Maybe in a diff'rent way.

[ He's drunk enough to be honest about it, at least. ]

[killtime]

Yeah?

[ Is she surprised by that? Maybe a little. But not in a way that's unwelcome either. Could just be the fact that they've both had too much to drink, but even without that excuse, it's not as if she would have been opposed. Hell, maybe she's even a bit charmed by it — the way he suddenly seems flustered now, when he'd been so willing to give her as much shit as she was giving him just a moment before. ]

Now you're just getting my fucking hopes up.

[ Funny how her wryness seems to take on a different meaning when her voice goes low like that. ]

[heretic_blade]

[ He's into it. He's very much into it. ]

I ain't kiddin'. If ya wanna...

[ Gonna leave that hanging in the air. ]

[killtime]

[ She wants to. If that wasn’t obvious before, it must be when her hands curl into his hair, her fingers tangling there and flexing to pull, just a little. It’s easy, with her arms already around his neck - and maybe a tiny bit risky too, since he could still change his mind and drop her again. Seems like a risk she’s willing to take.

When she answers, it sounds like half a challenge, half an invitation. ]

My place is over in Enma territory. You sure you want to cross that border just to fuck?

[heretic_blade]

C'mon, ya really think that's gonna scare off a guy like me?

[ It's not. He's not going to drop her again, her attentions actually make him hug her a little close. They're so close, yet he almost seems hesitant to break the tension and just kiss her already. ]

[killtime]

[ She hasn't broken the tension yet either. But it's not hesitation — not the same way. It's almost as if she's doing it on purpose, drawing out that moment of uncertainty just to tease. ]

Guess not. [ Wryly, as she eyes him: ] If you were easy to scare off, you wouldn't be interested in me anyway.

[ With her hands in his hair, it's easy to urge his head in the direction she wants. Her fingers tug in the strands as she leans in to finally close that small distance between their mouths with a kiss that's just like her — rough and unyielding, with just a hint of teeth. She takes that kiss like it belongs to her already, still tasting faintly like sake. ]

[heretic_blade]

[ He was expecting it and yet it still manages to catch him off guard. A low noise comes in return as he yields to her kiss. There's still aggression in his submission, nipping at her lip when he draws back. ]

Oi, wait 'til we're on th' ground...

[ A playful admonishment because he goes right in for another kiss. ]

[killtime]

[ She's never been very good at being told to wait. That's probably not very becoming of a centuries-old immortal — but she lives by her impulses half the time, and she wants to kiss him, so if he doesn't plan to stop her, then she won't very well stop her own damn self. ]

Or what? [ She challenges between kisses. ] You're not going to drop me now. [ Her smirk is sly, almost a little smug. He can probably feel the upward curve of her mouth as she presses it against his a second time, then a third. Hungry, and always with a hint of teeth, just enough to sting. ] Think we'll even make it back to my place at this rate?

[heretic_blade]

[ Like hell someone as impulsive and pleasure-driven as Izō is really going to tell her to stop. ]

What, ya wanna fuck on a rooftop or somethin' instead?

[ He's not opposed, but it's not meant to be a serious suggestion. Her kisses hit the right buttons, driving him to distraction. Pleasure sharpened by just a hint of pain -- ideal, really. ]

Promise I won't jus' leave ya there when we're done.

[killtime]

Maybe I do.

[ Honestly, she doesn't even know how serious she is or isn't when she answers back. Maybe it's beside the point. She's reckless when it comes to her wanting, and it won't make much difference to her either way. Not like she's ever been picky when it comes to the details. She'll take any relatively flat surface, if it means she gets to scratch that itch. ]

Maybe that's what I'm into. [ She's got a mean smile, this woman. Mean, but full of promises. ] Or maybe I don't give a damn where we fuck.

[heretic_blade]

[ A debate rages on in his head. Flight is tiring especially with a second person, so he can't stay up here indefinitely. Fucking her sooner rather than later sounds like a very enticing idea. He has no patience for delayed gratification...

So the choice is made. ]

Makes two of us, then.

[ He spots a close rooftop and goes in for a landing. It's nothing more than bare concrete, no access from the building to the roof aside from the fire escape on the side. Ideal for people going here to fuck, really.

Izō sets her down, but does nothing to distance himself. He keeps his hands on her and leans in to kiss her again. ]

[killtime]

[ Takes her but a second to get her feet solid underneath her before her hands are on him again, catching him by the clothes. There’s no pretense with her - she isn’t shy, and she doesn’t slow down. Her hands are both deft and forceful when she tugs him in by the waistband before working one of them inside, blindly feeling out his dick to wrap her fingers around it. Her grip is just like her - a little mean, a little too rough.

It’s a promise that sounds halfway like a threat when she murmurs into his mouth: ]

I’m going to ride you so hard you’ll feel it for a fucking week.

[heretic_blade]

[ Fuck. Yes, he'd agreed to this and yes, on some level he expected this kind of treatment, it's just different when it's actually happening. He bucks his hips into her hand. ]

Don't threaten me with a good time.

[ He likes it. As much as he tries to pretend he's dominant in every way, he really likes it when someone makes him submit, when someone uses him for their pleasure.

Izō tugs her down as he lowers himself to the ground. They both know what they want, why waste time? ]

[killtime]

[ Maybe she'd meant it, when she said that being dropped from a height that could have killed her was as good as foreplay — because she doesn't bother with much more of it now. She lets him pull her to the ground, sinking down on top with her thighs open on either side of him as she makes quick work of her own clothes. Takes all of a minute and change for her to undress, barely kept modest by the wild tumble of her black hair over her shoulders — but she doesn't seem at all vulnerable for her nakedness. Somehow, she's a little more dangerous this way, looking down at him with dark eyes and a sly smile.

She reaches for one of his hands, drawing it towards her and bowing her head to spit into his palm with a soft, wet sound. Then she urges that hand between her legs. ]

I won't go easy on you, hitokiri.

[heretic_blade]

[ Hearing that title said like that sends a shiver up his spine. God, that's hot. Why hasn't anyone said that to him before?? Izō makes a pleased noise, face flushed darkly. That confidence is still there, though it's hard to take him seriously when he's blushing like a schoolgirl. ]

I'm countin' on that.

[ He wastes no time in finding her clit with his saliva-slicked fingers. His touch is rough like everything else, but not so rough as to be unpleasant. He's not trying to impress her with his skill, he's just interested in getting her worked up. ]

[killtime]

[ It's impossible not to notice the way his face flushes with color. That's like blood in the water with her — something to sink her teeth into. Her smile cuts across her face. Her amusement is sharp-edged, and it lingers in the shape of her mouth even when her lips part on a thready exhale as his hand finds its way between her legs. ]

Is that what you like? [ Her musing comes in a low murmur. ] You want me to fucking use you?

[ She must not be too opposed to the idea herself, because she's already rocking back against his hand, the motion of her hips demanding even though the roughness of his fingers already has her clit stiff and eager. Doesn't take much skill to get her wet — Andy's easy enough with these things. But she's a little cruel when she plays, and she intentionally waits until he opens his mouth to answer her before giving his cock a mean squeeze through his clothes. ]